The New Year
by wordsmith29
Summary: AJ Chegwidden is faced with a variety of professional and personal challenges. A promotion looms, a mystery may be solved, and he just might discover a whole new family! Feb 13 - added Chapter 7 - the mystery solved! All reviews will be appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

(Standard disclaimers regarding characters from JAG, NCIS, and Sister Jane Arnold mystery series)

January

Chapter 1

Admiral AJ Chegwidden looked out of the window of the car transporting him back from the Pentagon to the JAG offices at the Washington Navy Yard[i] . The holiday decorations were melting away, along with the recent snowfall that had stalled operations in and around the DC metro region. The promise of a sunny day made the New Year even more welcome. He, for one, was glad that the holiday season was finished. The obligatory cocktail parties were trip-wired with the well- meaning wives of comrades who were intent upon introducing him to any unattached female of their acquaintance. He'd had his fill of conversations with Washington socialites of a certain age. Most of them were as jaded about romance as he was since Meredith had smashed their wedding plans with her unfaithful, fickle behavior and he felt no urge to try for another relationship. He had felt a flicker of interest for a possible acquaintance over the weekend but in spite of his friends' assurances, she looked very much occupied by a man with a very full head of hair. He'd spent most of his adult years separated from love and had achieved a certain comfort. Meredith had broken through the barriers, but because of her actions, he had withdrawn behind his protective wall, content in bachelorhood, focused on the duties of his rank and his career. His end goal had always been four stars[ii] and a pathway had just opened up that just might carry him that far. His three years at JAG had turned into four and it was time to move up or retire.

His cell phone rang as his driver negotiated the turn off the Southeast Freeway onto South Capital Street. Just minutes from his office, he didn't want to be drawn into a long conversation. "Tyner, what is it?"

"Admiral, Commander Turner has a lady he'd like you to meet."

"So does everyone else in this damn town," he barked back then immediately regretted it. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger trying to clear up his headache. He had the Secretary of Defense to thank for that one.

"My apologies, Admiral. I should have made it clear that Mrs. Strasser believes she has information regarding the disappearance of Lt. Loren Singer last year."

"Singer? That case has been settled for some time. We know who killed her and why."

"Yes sir, but we don't know who was the father of her baby, or why her airline ticket was for Dublin, Ireland and not San Diego. Commander Turner believes that Mrs. Strasser may be able to shed some light on those questions. You can meet with her at 0930 hours. Special Agent Gibbs isn't available but his deputy, Special Agent DiNozzo is available at that time."

"Why the hell do we need NCIS?"

"Commander Turner suggested it, sir as they were the lead investigators on the case." "Very well, Tyner. I'm just entering the gates." A.J. automatically returned the salute of the soldier at the gate. "Get me some coffee and the Singer file."

"Yes sir."

In spite of small aggravations, Tyner was a suburb yeoman. He easily traded the Admiral's coat and briefcase for the requested file and a steaming hot cup of black coffee. It was 0915 as AJ entered his office. He laid the file on his desk, sipping the black coffee as he looked out at the flag flying high above the Navy yard, silhouetted against the blue sky. Stars. Stars and bars. Chief of Naval Operations. Or retire.[iii] Was there really a choice? He smiled briefly to himself.

"Admiral, Commander Sturgis is here with Mrs. Strasser. Agent DiNozzio is on his way up."

"Send them in." AJ set his coffee aside.

Sturgis presented himself and then his companion. "Mrs. Strasser, may I present Admiral Chegwidden. Admiral, Mrs. Strasser has come to us with some information regarding Lt. Loren Singer's recent history."

"Good morning, Admiral Chegwidden. Thank you for taking the time to see me."

Her voice was soft and hinted of southern roots. Her eyes were an azure blue that he had seen at sea on certain, perfect days. She was as different from Meredith as the sun was from the moon. Where as Meredith's and hair flapped everywhere, this lady's dark hair was contained in a neat chignon topped by a shaped warm brown felt hat trimmed with a gorse ribbon and a feathered jewel. Her brown wool suit was superbly tailored for her tall, slim but curvy form, with a bit of flare in the skirt and turned back cuffs on the jacket where a practical, flat gold watch glinted on her left wrist. But no wedding ring. He glanced quickly at her right hand. She was a widow. He pulled himself together and accepted her offered hand. "At your service, Mrs. Strasser." He managed to stammer, then stepped back, offering her a seat.

"Agent DiNozzio, Admiral." Tyner interrupted.

"Rosalind!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Tony. I thought someone from your office might turn up." Rosalind smiled. "I hope you don't mind. I was at a loss and since it was a Navy matter, I called on an old friend." Suddenly, she looked younger, prettily confused, dressed in her mother's second best suit for a tea.

"I don't mind anything, Rosalind. If you'll just explain why you're here." Tony guided her toward the chair the Admiral held. "Hello Admiral, long time no see."

"Not nearly long enough DiNozzio," AJ growled. "Sturgis, take a seat. Tyner, bring another chair when you have time."

He took refuge behind his desk and put his attempts to figure out this woman's connection to both Sturgis and Tyner out of his mind. "I understand you may have some information in regard to the death of Lt. Loren Singer."

"More correctly, perhaps I have some information about her life." Again, that soft drawl. "I have a weekend house in Virginia, just a small one, as Tony could attest. He's visited a few times with my younger daughter."

That explained the connection. Why did he feel relieved, though if he had a daughter dating DiNozzio, he'd be worried. He flicked a glance at the younger man who grinned. "It's a nice house, Rosalind. Very comfortable."

"Are you involved in this case, Tony?"

"I was part of the investigation of her murder, yes." Tony replied.

"I'm sorry I didn't make the connection last year, but you did catch her killer, I understand."

"Yes, we did." DiNozzio was unusually patient. "But we'd like to hear whatever information you have."

"Very well," Rosalind Strasser set her gaze on the admiral. "Do you recall the New Year's day brunch at the Smith-Clyde's?"

"Of course!" Recognition dawned. "We didn't get a chance to meet." She'd been one the antithesis of this composed presentation, dressed in fox-hunting clothes, somewhat mud-splattered with her hair in tendrils about her flushed face. He'd felt a spark of interest, but was prevented from conversing with her by the presence of an attentive Irishman with a full head of hair who apparently shared her passion for hunting and horses.

"In spite of Maggie's best efforts. We were at school together, Custis Hall girls[iv] . I've recently moved back to the area, and Maggie has been shopping me around." She flashed a conspiratorial grin that belied the stiff formality of her clothes and posture. "My little house in the country isn't far from Fairmount, and I've been pulled into the activities of the Jefferson hunt, which Maggie and Clyde are wholehearted members. Now she has Sister Jane Arnold pulling at me to move into first flight," she laughed.

"A nun? First flight? What is all this?" Tony interrupted. "Rosalind, try to stay on point."

"Tony, I am. First flight is the initial group of fox hunters – the very best riders on the strongest horses. There's always a second flight of less able riders, sometimes a third, and always a group of hill toppers, those who are mounted, or perhaps in cars, who follow the hunt from a distance and not get into the melee. And you know Sister Jane; you met her at Thanksgiving. She's no nun." Rosalind laughed. "At any rate, it all came together at the Smith-Clyde's. The admiral was there, Johnny Dunlap was there, and we'd just been hunting. It suddenly came to me that I'd seen Lt. Loren Singer there, at that very same hunt, last year, apparently only days before she was killed."

"She was pregnant and in the hunt field?" AJ was astounded.

"It's not unknown, but in this case, she didn't hunt as far as I could tell. The field was very muddy that day and I am really just a hill topper these days. I'd seen her early in the season – she was quite a rider, always in the first flight, just behind the Master. I don't believe she ever lost her seat. She was a regular guest, then inexplicably stopped hunting."

"She was assigned to sea duty in November," AJ explained. "Mrs. Strasser----"

"You're saying that Lt. Singer was a member of that old money fox hunting club? Tony interrupted. "And you didn't think to mention it?"

"DiNozzio!" AJ barked.

"Excuse me, Rosalind. Why didn't you make the connection last year when the case was in the news?" His impatience thickened the air.

"I was very much occupied, Tony. You do remember that Libby broke her leg skiing that week? The concussion was very worrying. And, you don't talk about your work, so how would I know you were involved? At any rate, the information I had was very sparse. I only saw her in a very intense conversation with Johnny. I didn't hear what they were saying."

"Yes, I remember. I'm sorry. What triggered your memory?"

"There was an item on the Washington News last week. Apparently some unfortunate soul deliberately jumped off of that bridge. The reporter added a bit about Lt. Singer's death, noting that she had, in fact, been murdered."

"And we know that she was murdered by a man whom she was carrying on an affair, a Commander Lindsey. He confessed and the forensic evidence confirmed it," Tony stated emphatically.

"But Peter tells me that she was expecting a child and that man was never found."

"Who in the hell is Peter!" Tony demanded

"DiNozzio!" AJ bellowed.

"That would be me, Admiral." Sturgis interrupted. "Mrs. Strasser and I are old friends."

"Then how come he's calling her Rosalind and you're calling her Mrs. Strasser?" AJ demanded. "And why is she calling you Peter?"

"The situation calls for that formality, sir," Sturgis glanced at Tony who remained unrepentant. "And Peter is my given name."

As his commanding officer, AJ should have recalled that fact about Sturgis' name, but he was distracted by this convoluted story and by Rosalind's amused blue eyes. Were she and Sturgis an item? If so, why was she allowing her friends to make introductions, and admit it in front of him? There were a great many questions he'd like to ask Rosalind Strasser.

"Look, she's practically my mother-in-law," Tony said defensively. "How would you like to find out that your fiancée's mother has information on a year old murder investigation on the Monday after you've spent the entire weekend at her "small country house", which by the way, is huge by normal standards."

"Perhaps you could continue, Mrs. Strasser. At your own pace," AJ looked pointedly at Tony.

"Thank you, Admiral." Her smile was a gentle balm. "The news item had a photo of Lt. Singer – her military photo, with her hat. She looked much like she did wearing her hunting hat. It then occurred to me that the last time I'd seen her was in the company of Johnny Dunlop, an Irish steeplechaser. He spent all last fall in the region and often was present on weekends when Lt. Singer was hunting and she was clearly enamored of him, though they weren't a recognized couple. Suddenly picked up stakes and went back to Ireland after the New Year hunt. I didn't see him again until this most recent New Year's Day at the Smith-Clydes and he took great pains to tell me exactly where he'd been in the past year and what he'd been doing in nauseating detail and deliberately kept me when I would have moved away to greet other friends. He was particularly determined to keep me from meeting Admiral Chegwidden."

"Rosalind, this Johnny Dunlop could have a perfectly reasonable motive for wanting to keep your attention on him." Tony looked embarrassed. "You're a very attractive lady."

"Thank you, Tony, but I can indeed tell the difference between a man who was interested in my attributes and a man who is intent on a different agenda and Johnny very definitely wanted me to know that he'd been spending all of his time in Ireland, England and France since last October.

"But you said you saw him with Lt. Singer at the New Year hunt," Sturgis pointed out.

"Indeed I did," Rosalind smiled. "But he was at great pains to convince me that he'd last been in the States in October."

All three men leaned forward in their chairs.

"Are you sure she had a relationship with this man?" Tony demanded.

"Her airline ticket showed Ireland as her destination," Sturgis pointed out.

"Dublin is a connector to many airports across Europe. If you will recall, for a time, we thought she might have been on her way to Russia." AJ focused his attention entirely on Rosalind. "Your path of logic is understandable but is there any real proof that Lt. Singer and this Johnny Dunlop had any kind of physical relationship? "

"I wasn't close enough to be privy to their conversations," Rosalind confessed. "But I have two daughters and a large number of female friends. I can recognize a woman frustrated with the course of a relationship." She hesitated. "If you are satisfied that you have her killer then her relationship with Johnny Dunlop is insignificant."

"On the contrary. There was there was some force in her life that pushed her toward blackmailing Commander Lindsey," Sturgis mused. "And it was that need that killed her. Lindsey can insist until time ends that her fall against the bridge railing was an accidental slip on the ice, but I'll never believe it. I'd bet she demanded a great deal more than $500 from him and he needed to do something to quiet her."

"Was she having an affair with him as well?" Rosalind asked. "Or, did she just threaten to tell his wife that she was having his baby because he was an easy target?"

AJ frowned. "What do you mean?"

Sturgis cleared her throat. "I explained to Mrs. Strasser – Rosalind – that Lt. Singer and Commander Lindsey were united in their efforts to demoralize several officers in your command, sir. Also, Commander Lindsey vehemently denied any affair; only meeting her as part of a conspiracy to even some scores."

AJ nodded thoughtfully. "So, if she is having an actual affair with this Johnny Dunlop, and he decides to end the relationship –"

"Then she turns to Lindsey as an easy mark," Tony agreed. "But she pushed the wrong buttons."

"What do you know of Dunlop?" AJ asked.

"He is definitely a former steeplechase racer, and now brokers horses between the states, Ireland, England, and France. He passes himself off as minor aristocracy. It's patently not true but people let him get away with it because he's an interesting dinner guest. Even though she was a clever girl, Lt. Singer might well have been fooled. " Rosalind hesitated. "There's something else you should know, but I have absolutely no proof, only the word of someone whom I implicitly trust. After my rather lengthy conversation with him, a good friend who is a position to know so, informed me that Johnny has worked for the IRA, using his travels as a cover for raising funds and support."

The admiral thoughtfully leaned on his elbow and laid his finger along his cheek. "The peace process in Northern Ireland may have put him out of a job, but then there's always work for a weasel."

Rosalind smiled just for him. "That's exactly what Clayton said."

"Clayton?" Tony leaned forward. "Who's he?"

The admiral dreaded her answer.

"Clayton Webb. He's a liaison with the state department." She spoke with bright determination.

_She knows he's CIA._ The admiral telegraphed Sturgis.

_Yes sir, but she'll never admit it._ Sturgis replied.

"I've met Mr. Webb," AJ carefully chose his words. "Would you mind if I spoke with him regarding this matter? Perhaps he could provide some additional information regarding Johnny Dunlop's activities.

"It was he who suggested I come to you, so please do so," she looked relieved. "I'm sure he'll be helpful." She rose, slipping her handbag over her forearm, and all three men rose as one. "I hope I haven't wasted your time, Admiral Chegwiddin."

"Not at all, Mrs. Strasser. The information you've given us has the potential to fill in some important gaps in Lt Singer's life. I will call Mr. Webb." He took her hand in parting. "And I do agree, it would be best for you to steer clear of Dunlop." _Even if he does have a full head of hair._

"Thank you and I most certainly will do so!" she said emphatically. "Peter?"

"Admiral, if you will excuse me, I'll escort Mrs. Strasser out." Sturgis offered his arm and returned her smile.

"Of course, Sturgis. Have Tyner set up some time with me this afternoon. We'll sort this out."  
"Yes sir."

DeNozzio looked as though he wanted to gallop after them, but was torn by his desire to have a set to with the Admiral.

"She's a widow," he said. "Her husband was an Army Ranger – killed in the first Gulf war. She has three children, a son, and twin daughters, one of whom is my fiancée and if you drag her into anything I will personally…"

"Perhaps your time would be better spent investigating Mr. Dunlop and removing him from her presence," the Admiral said with quiet fury. "Get out of my office DeNozzio."

"Yes sir!" he said smartly and turned heel to depart. AJ had the feeling he hadn't seen the last of him.

AJ drew a deep breath. If he were leaving JAG, this needed to be put to bed fast. He punched his phone. "Tyner, find me Clayton Webb and get Commander Rabb's six in my office now."

"Yes sir!"

"So she was seeing this Johnny Dunlop at the same time she was seeing my brother?" Harmon Rabb Jr. shook his head. "You know, Sergie really believed there was good in her."

"Then don't despoil him of the notion, Rabb. Everyone should have at least one person who remembers them kindly." AJ replied. "I'm going to talk with Webb personally. I want you to work on a timeline. Pull together all the information at hand – from both Mac's and Commander Mannetti's investigations."

"Yes sir." Rabb looked relieved to not be reminded that he had privately asked Commander Mannetti to seek out information regarding Lt. Singer's personal life.

"I would have given her money – a place to stay, whatever she wanted." Rabb said with quiet fierceness. "All she had to do was tell me the baby was Sergie's. But she didn't lie about that."

"Don't put that down to good character," AJ said wryly. "Sergie is a helicopter pilot in the Russian army. She may have thought that Dunlop was an Irish lord and if he was in fact the father of her baby, she must have gambled that he'd change his mind and if not, you'd always be there."

"This doesn't change anything," Rabb noted. "Lindsey killed her."

"Legally, no. Dunlop has no connection to her murder. But ethically, he may well have put her in a position that she felt she had no other recourse than to blackmail Lindsey, which was the action that caused her death. He should answer for that."

How he could be made to do so hung in the air between them.

"I'll put that timeline together, Admiral." Rabb took his leave.

AJ sat back in his chair. As a commanding officer, he'd failed Loren Singer. He'd not been able to break her bad habits, which included countless attempts to ingratiate herself into investigations that would enhance her possible promotion. Unfortunately, he could definitely see her targeting a man she thought to be wealthy and titled like a heat seeking missle, but the pregnancy was a wild card. He was sure she hadn't intended that to happen and her frustration and missteps in attempting to deal with it had gotten her killed.

Commander Turner presented himself in the Admiral's office at 2 pm that afternoon.

"Webb is 'unavailable' at the moment," AJ informed him. "When did Mrs. Strasser speak with him?"

"I understand he was at the New Year hunt as well, sir but that would have to be confirmed with Mrs. Strasser. I can provide you with her telephone and address." He handed the Admiral a slip of paper.

"Thank you. There may need to be some other questions clarified." He glanced at the address when Sturgis finished. "I thought she lived in Virginia. This is a Georgetown address."

"She is a writer and teaches literature, sir."

AJ raised his brows. "And she's in Washington because…"

"She was offered a visiting scholar position at Georgetown after it was …vacated, sir."

Then it dawned on him. Rosalind Strasser had filled the place left by Meredith when she moved to Italy to be with her lover. "O, how full of briers is this working-day world!" he quoted softly.[v]

Commander Turner remained steady "I've known Rosalind since we were children, sir. Her father was a doctor – an army surgeon. My father was a chaplain. As you might expect, they had a great deal of interaction. You know the military was still struggling to integrate during the Civil Rights movement and when my sister was invited to her birthday party, none of the other children came and Sally and I knew we were the reason. Rosalind and her parents never missed a beat, laughed and played like we were the only children her age in the world. I would have done anything for her because of how kindly she treated my sister. The next year, her father was serving at a forward base in Viet Nam and he was killed during a rocket attack. Her mother moved back to her hometown and I lost touch with Rosalind for many years, though I heard she'd married an Army ranger . We met again last year at the Cherry Blossom fencing tournament. Her son was competing that day".

"DeNozzio said that her husband was killed in the first Gulf War."

"They're an Army family, sir. Her daughter's husband is in motion for his third tour."

AJ folded his arms. "And DeNozzio is engaged to the other daughter?"

"I only just learned that myself, sir."

"And her son, is he in the military?"

"No sir. He teaches history at the University of Virginia and is a world class fencer."

"Well, she's brought us some interesting information. I've asked Rabb to develop a timeline to see if we can make enough of a connection between Singer and this Dunlop character. When I find Webb, he'll fill in some pieces. Dismissed."

"Thank you sir," Turner hesitated.

"What is it, Sturgis?"

"I wouldn't like to see her in any danger sir."

"Neither would I, Sturgis, but I imagine Special Agent DeNozzio is all over that."

"He may need some reinforcements. Rosalind has always been somewhat willful, sir and in spite of her protestations, she definitely courts first flight." Sturgis fell back on the fox hunting term to describe Rosalind's tendency to rush headlong into a situation.

AJ leaned back in his chair. "That was obvious, indeed," he allowed himself a He tapped the card with her address and telephone number in his hand. small smile. "Are you saying I should do something, Sturgis?"

"Well sir, you might prevent her from doing something impetuous if she should see Johnny Dunlop before this new investigation has concluded," Sturgis suggested. "Bye your leave, sir.

Perhaps he could be of some assistance. AJ thoughtfully tapped the card with her address and telephone number on his desktop. But who could control his own impetuous actions?

January - Chapter 2

"Mother, you didn't!"

"Didn't want darling?" Rosalind turned to see the younger of her twin girls staring at her with exhasperation. She immediately concluded that Tony had contacted Libby about the visit she had paid to the JAG offices at the Navy Yard yesterday.

"Didn't accept the Colonol's invitation to dinner!"

"No, I didn't!"Rosalind replied with some exhasperation. Since her husband's death in the service of his country, she had dated sporadically and not always with her children's approval. It wasn't that they didn't want her to be happy, she often told herself. They just wanted the perfect man for her. Well, he didn't exist, she had decided somewhat grimly after she had allowed some of her friends to make introductions to potential men.

"Well, then, who is AJ?" Libby handed her a telephone message. "He called while you were in the shower?"

"A Navy admiral, actually. He was at the New Year hunt at the Smith-Clydes."

"He'd like you to call him." Libby grinned. "Anybody but the Colonol is fine with me."

"I'll remember that," Rosalind replied with a tight smile, wondering if she should just confess the whole story to her daughter. But it was too long and too sordid and involved Libby's finacee, Tony DeNozzio. She really should speak with him before saying anything to Libby.

"Well, call him!" Libby urged. "I'll wait."

Rosalind dialed the telephone number somewhat unsteadily. What would she say if he asked her to clarify some of the statements she'd made yesterday.

"Rosalind Strasser returning Admiral Chegwidden's call," she said when Tyner answered the telephone then waited to be put through.

"Good morning, Mrs. Strasser," his low voice underlined with Texas drawl was warm in her ear. "I realize it's a last minute invitation but I was hoping you might be available for lunch today -- say 2 PM at Georgio's?"

"I -" Rosalind glanced at Libby. "Do you mind if I go out for a bit today?"

"Not at all," Libby smirked at her.

"Alright, then." She spoke into the telephone. "Two at Georgio's -- that's on K street?"

"Yes, next to the coffee bar. I'll have a table waiting."

"See you then."

She pulled another suit out of her closet then tossed it back in favor of tailored slacks and a cashmere blazer under which she wore a matching turtleneck. She knotted a scarf around her neck and pinned a scarab on it. "My God, I look like my mother," she muttered.

"I wonder if I'll be saying that one day," Libby skulked around the corner. "Mother, you look wonderful. Very chic. You left here yesterday looking like Miss Marple."

Rosalind blushed. She'd felt like Miss Marple, a batty old maid snooping on other people's lives. But the information she had needed to be told. And, apparently, told again.

"Have fun!" Libby cheered her into a cab. "I'll be back late tonight. I'm meeting Tony for dinner."

A short cab ride later, Rosalind entered the restaurant with some trepidation. "I'm meeting Admiral Chegwidden," she murmured to the matre'd.

"Of course, ma'am. This way."

AJ was waiting for her, looking very fit in his Service Dress Blues, the gold at his cuffs glinting in the subdued light. She gave a passing glance at his ribbons as he reseated himself across from her. She recognized those indicating Viet Nam era service and then the liberation of Kuwait. She couldn't move past the purple heart, just below the SEAL trident. Her heart fluttered just a bit.

"My husband was in the first Gulf War," she burst out inexplicably.

"Commander Turner told me of your loss," he said gently.

"My daughter's husband is preparing for his third tour," she took a deep breath. "The country talks about supporting the troops, but they really don't understand, do they?"

"No, they can't," AJ agreed. "How are you managing? Is there anything I can do?" he hesitated then reached out and took her hand. "I never met your husband, but I know he was a very brave man, as was your father. Your family has given a great deal and continues to do so."

"Thank you," she whispered. She took a deep shuddering breath and summoned a smile. "I am sorry - it was all your ribbons, you see. It's been over ten years, but still there are moments. I'm fine now. Truly." She became aware of her hand warm in the loose grasp of his fingers and slowly withdrew, her fingers tingling along his palm. "Please forgive me."

He smiled at her. "There's nothing to forgive, Mrs. Strasser."

"After all of that, you must call me Rosalind."

"From the east to western Ind, No jewel is like Rosalind," he quoted.V1 (As You Like it 3.2.96 )

She stared blankly at him for a moment, then whispered, "Oh, no."

"I'm afraid so," he murmured.

"You were the most talked about man in the English department," she confided.

"How so?" he raised a brow. "Rosalind, please. Let's get it out of the way. It's been over a year. Nothing you will say could hurt me now."

"Dr Callender was not the most popular faculty member in the department," Rosalind confided. "She was very - reckless in her relationships. You were not the first man to be hurt by her."

"She confessed as much," AJ admitted. "She knows she has a problem, but I couldn't be the experiment for her to fix it. Perhaps her Italian lover will prove to be so."

"You are more than generous," she said softly. "Admiral, I -"

"Please," he smiled. "After all this, call me AJ."

"Happily," she smiled. "I know you wanted to talk with me about Lt. Singer and Johnny Dunlop.

"In a way," he waved the waiter away. "Commander Turner suggested that I might convince you to keep your distance from Johnny Dunlop."

"No one need convince me of that, to be sure!" she declared with some spirit. "Did he also tell you that I dislike being managed?"

"That was suggested," he said with humor, "but in the kindest possible way."

Her lips twitched into a smile. "Whatever must you think of me?"

He smiled back. "I think you are quite the most enchanting lady and I really need to thank Charlie and Maggie for suggesting we meet."

"So, its like that is it?" she tilted her head.

"I'm afraid so," he confessed. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she replied somewhat giddily, amazed at herself. "Do you think we could order lunch then?"

He laughed openly. "Of course. What would you like?" He signaled the waiter.

[i] The television JAG headquarters is in Falls Church, but in reality the JAG offices are located at the Washington Navy yard.

[ii] The Judge Advocate General of the Navy is a three-star vice admiral or lt. general by statute. The appt can be extended to four years, but is generally three.

[iii] "The CNO is the principal naval adviser to the President of the United States, the Secretary of Defense and to the Secretary of the Navy on the conduct of war.[2] The Chief of Naval Operations is nominated by the President for appointment and must be confirmed via majority vote by the Senate.[5] A requirement for being Chief of Naval Operations is having significant experience in joint duty assignments, which includes at least one full tour of duty in a joint duty assignment as a flag officer.[5] However the president may waive those requirements if he determines the officer is necessary for national interest.[5] By statute, the CNO is appointed as a four-star admiral.[5]

The position of CNO replaced the position of Aide for Naval Operations, which was a position established by administrative law rather than statute." (Wikipedia)

[iv] The Virginia girls school appearing in the Rita Mae Brown "Sister Jane" mystery series. All fox hunting references are crossovers from this series

[v] As You Like It" 1.3.13.

[VI ] As You Like It 3.2.96


	2. Chapter 2

January - Chapter 2

"Lunch...then dinner. What's next - a weekend away?"

Rosalind blushed. "Libby, we're just getting acquainted. In fact, I'm not sure that he's even -"

"No, don't say it. " Libby took her mother's hands. " We're all settled now, or nearly so. It's your turn, Mama. Really it is. We're all grown up now. We won't panic if you have a lover. He's perfect for you."

"My little matchmaker," Rosalind kissed her youngest daughter's cheek. "Shouldn't you be downstairs still?"

"My assistant is closing today," Libby said grandly. She was proud, and rightly so, of her Georgetown boutique, "Bangles", which occupied the first floor of the Georgetown townhouse. "Tony and I actually have a dinner date and I need to start trusting her...the wedding's not far off and I don't intend to close while we're on our honeymoon. Of course, you'll be here to keep an eye on things." Libby's flat was on the second floor and Rosalind was temporarily occupying the loft during the week and going to her country house on weekends. Rosalind was also traveling back and forth between Washington and the Outer Banks where she was finally rebuilding the beach house lost in Hurricane Isabelle (2003).

"Well, yes." Rosalind agreed, though privately she'd been thinking that Tony might not appreciate a mother-in-law in the attic, as it were, but so far he'd been more than amiable to her and she'd been careful to tiptoe around them, not commenting on their comings and goings. Thinking of Tony had also brought up that ticklish problem. "Libby, before you go - I should tell you how I came to meet AJ."

Libby raised her eyes. "At a singles bar?" she giggled at her mother's horrified expression. "Alright, I'm listening."

"One of his staff, a young female lt. was murdered last year -- you remember, it was recently on the news again. That piece reminded me that I'd seen her last year at the New Year Hunt at Fairmount and I thought I ought to tell someone. That someone turned out to be Admiral Chegwidden." Rosalind finished with relief, very happy that she had managed to tell the facts without directly involving Tony.

"You should have told Tony - he was part of the investigation." Libby replied as she gathered her hair into a large tortoiseshell barrette at the nape of her neck.

Rosalind hid her surprise. "He was called in by the Admiral, so he's aware of what I saw."

Libby turned to her mother. "Exactly what did you see?"

"Just that she was in an argument with Johnny Dunlap - the Irish horse broker."

"That weasel." Libby sniffed, inexplicably sounding very much like the admiral had last week.

"At any rate, all concerned parties have been informed and I am very much relieved to be done with it," Rosalind smiled.

"Plus, you've got the bonus of meeting the admiral...and there he is now!" Libby raced for the door as the chimes rang. "The others insisted I meet him." She flung open the door just as AJ was adjusting his tie. "WOW!!"

"Hello," AJ smiled down at a younger version of Rosalind. Though her hair was a natural blond, her eyes were her mother's vivid blue. "You must be Libby."

"Yes, Admiral. Won't you come in?" Libby recovered. She made a grand gesture that had Rosalind laughing. "I am sorry. It's been some time since I've seen a naval officer in full dress uniform. You and Mimsey will look incredible together."

He looked across the room and was stunned for a moment by her perfect sophiustication. She'd chosen a beautifully tailored silk cocktail dress in an electric blue color that mirrored the color of her eyes. The cap sleeves of the garment revealed a pair of very fit arms and the discrete cleavage was tantalizing to say the least. "I have to saw WOW too!" he spread his arms, smiling at Rosalind.

"Thank you - and please forgive my daughter, AJ. She's usually far better mannered, but she's on a scouting mission for the troups and spying always did make her nervous. I'll just get my wrap." Rosalind slipped out of the room, thinking that he needed to meet - and like - her children if they were ever going to have a future.

"The dress is a knock out on her, isn't it?" Libby commented.

"Yes, it definitely is." AJ cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed. He'd not expected to deal with this self-possessed young woman who was carefully examining him. He remembered the absolute failure of his relationship with Dr. Walden due to her fierce possessiveness of her son, Danny. "The shop downstairs, is it yours?"

"Yes," Libby replied. "Bangles is more than just jewelry, but I liked the name. I have my own dress label, too." she added modestly. I live in the second floor flat and poor Mimsey has to climb the stairs to the attic since she's begun teaching at Georgetown. Mamma's just lighted here for convenience," Libby explained. "If she decides to stay at Georgetown another semester, she'll likely get her own place. If not, she'll go back to the country. You know, she told me about the murdered lt. That's just scarey. She needs to stay away from Johnny Dunlap."

"What do you know about him?" AJ honed in on the sound of her voice.

"He's just slimy...the kind of man you don't want to meet in a corridor, if you know what I mean." Libby waited for him to become embarrassed.

"Sounds like he needs to be taught some manners," AJ commented neutrally. "You know, we have the man who murdered her."

"You have the man who confessed." Libby's bright blue eyes suddenly looked very much like her mother's. "Perhaps he's more afraid of somebody than he is of you or Agent Gibbs and Tony, though I must admit, you do look very imposing." She fiddled with the button on her jacket. "I just don't like Johnny Dunlop. If he hits on one more wife in that hunt club crowd that Mimsey's hanging with, somebody is going to horsewhip him," Libby murmured with a weather eye toward the door. "Mimsey is a bit innocent...or she prefers to just not see what's going on, but he's is a horrible letcher. Last year, he even made a pass at me with Tony standing right there. Tony nearly taught him some manners on the spot but it was the first time he'd met the family and he didn't want to make a bad impression."

Interesting that Tony had a previous acquaintance with Johnny Dunlop and had failed to mention it. What else did NCIS know that they weren't sharing with him? "I'll certainly do my best to convince her to avoid Dunlop," he reassured Libby. "This is a very nice attic," he changed the subject, glancing around the loft apartment, which featured a breathtaking view of the Washington skyline at one end of the great room . A sectional sofa faced a gas fireplace, which itself was flanked by bookcases and on one side a small desk, overflowing with papers, faced the skyline. A comfortable dining area and galley kitchen occuped one corner and what he assumed was Rosalind's bedroom and bath were behind a wall upon which hung an oversized seascape with a ramshackle beach house in one corner. Two figures, a man and a woman, stood arm and arm by the cottage door, looking out over the ocean. "Is that the Outer Banks?"

"Yes, that's our house - or rather was - " A shadow crossed Libby's face. "The house itself was wiped out by Hurricane Isabelle. Mama's been fighting with FEMA and some environmentalists to rebuild it and she's finally succeeded."

"The house meant a great deal to you." AJ noted.

"Mama and Daddy bought the property years ago - its a huge property, very private. They built a small beach house and then added to it over the years. We spent most summers there. " Libby tried to smile. "And we will again. The new house is quite grand though - nothing like that little shack. We had such good times with our friends, sleeping on the porch and camping on the beach when there was an overflow. Now, even the beach has changed - the sand dunes were shifted in the storm. If they hadn't bought so much property, Mimsey wouldn't have been able to rebuild. The new house has six bedrooms, each with its own bath!"

"And it still won't be big enough for your house party on your wedding," Roasalind added, re-entering the room. She'd flung a soft beige cape around her shoulders and as she reached for her handbag, it slipped from her shoulders. "If it's even finished - oh dear,"

"Allow me," AJ moved forward to adjust the soft cashmere cape, his hands lingering for a moment on her shoulders. "Lovely - fabric," he said.

"It's from Libby's shop. The dress is her own label. She keeps me up to date," Rosalind laughed.  
"My daughter, Francesca, writes for fashion magazines in Italy."

"Mama didn't mention that you have a daughter." Libby reentered the conversation.

AJ frowned and glanced at Rosalind. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've told you about Francesca." That was a definite oversight.

"And what else haven't you told her?" Libby lifted her eyebrows and spoke sternly.

AJ couldn't help but laugh. "You are a formidable young lady, Libby."

"Wait until you see my mama in action," Libby joined him in laughter. "We don't call her Mimsey for nothing, you know."

"Mimsey?"

"Short for Memsahib - she who must be obeyed." Libby explained. "Raising three children on her own, she needed to be stern at times. She did tell you about all of us?"

"Yes, indeed. One son, two daughters. Two grandchildren and a wedding in the offing. I've met your fiance - in a professional capacity."

"I think that's enough quizzing for now, Libby," Rosalind urged. "We'll be late for dinner and miss our reservations." She pulled on her gloves and picked up her evening bag. "I think I'm finally ready. You have your car double parked, I'm sure."

"That I do," he nodded to the younger blond girl. "Enjoy your evening."

"You too," Libby smiled at him. "No curfew, but please call if you intend to be very late."

"And the same to you," Libby kissed her daughter, laughing. "Have a good evening darling, and be sure to ask Tony his preferences for either buffet or sit down and the menu cards are on my desk. I really don't want to serve chicken if I can help it."

"When is the wedding?" AJ asked after they had settled in his Lincoln Navigator and were moving slowly toward DuPont Circle and the restaurant where they had been separately invited to a private dinner party hosted by the Smith-Clydes. Upon discovering the mechanization of their friends, AJ and Rosalind had decided to come as a couple and surprise both Maggie and Gene who had so far made two unsuccessful attempts to pair them up.

"July. I've got six months to get that house finished or her house party will be sleeping on the beach!" Rosalind had a grim note in her voice. "We're up to ten so far, and still counting."

"House party?" AJ queried. "What's that?"

"A bunch of giggling sorority girls - " Rosalind laughed. "Well, not always. It's an old Southern tradition. She'll have her sister as her matron of honor and a flower girl for the ceremony and the rest of them all gather around, not officially bridesmaids, but involved in the wedding plans. She'll end up with twenty girls, Ijust know it."

"Why twenty?" AJ was horrified.

"Because her sister had fifteen." Rosalind smiled mischievously. "They love each other dearly, but twins have a special kind of competition. Libby is the younger and Caitlin has never let her forget it."

"How many did you have?" AJ asked, wanting her to talk about her husband in a relaxed manner. He'd seen the tiny figures in that painting, embracing as they looked at the waves.

"None. Rosalind's eyes softened. "My mother was dead set against me marrying into the Army, because of my father's death. Plus, Jim was the wild boy in our town - he joined the army one step behind the county sheriff. I eloped with Jim right after he finished OCS. So, I snuck out of that convent of a girls college she'd picked out for me and met him in Elkin, Maryland." She smiled. "I was never sorry that I didn't have a big wedding, but it took a long time for my mother to forgive us. When Caitlin fell in love with Will, I knew exactly how my mother felt but I was determined to not show it. They met when he was midway through his first deployment, married just before his second deployment and now, he'll be going for his third, leaving her with a new baby." she shook her head. "Perhaps I should have told her how hard it really is."

"I never thought about how hard it was for my wife," AJ mused. "She was Italian and married me against her family's wishes as well. Viet Nam was an unpopular war in Europe as well and the Navy particularly so in Naples. When I got out, well it took awhile to clear my head, and she finally gave up on me; divorcing me here in the United States, then taking Francesca back to Italy and refusing to let me see her. She remarried and we finally managed to speak civilly about three years ago just before her death, but by then Francesca was grown. I've been trying to build a relationship with her, but its taking time."

"It's the things you can't share, I suppose," Rosalind looked out at the window at the lights of the Capital as they passed. "I had no conception of what combat was like and he had no idea how difficult it was to raise back to back three children, two of them twins." She was silent for a moment, then smiled at him. "I don't think that I mentioned that I'm a grandmother."

"You're the best looking grandmother I've ever seen," Paused at a traffic light, AJ turned toward her. "So, how are we going to play this?"

She giggled. "Well, Maggie knows I've eloped once, so that kind of story wouldn't surprise her. Perhaps we should just walk in and wait for their reaction?"

"Good idea. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, staring at the red light. "I'm very puzzled about you, Rosalind."

"How so?" she titled her head, looking faintly concerned as they stopped at another red light.

He smiled to reassure her. "Your daughter thinks you are too innocent to know what kind of a man Johnny Dunlop is. Your old friend Commander Turner says you're definately a first flighter, Agent DiNozzio thinks you need protecting from me of all people, And with me, you're so composed, so much a lady, but then there's this flash in your eyes that makes me think Turner is closest to being right."

She titled her head. "How so?"

"Well, you've just confessed to running away to marry without your mother's consent to a boy she didn't like." He hesitated, then plunged headlong. "Would you run away with me?"

"Not a chance," she said with a smile, then even as the pain hit him, she leaned over to gently kiss his lips. "You're the first man in my life of whom my entire family would approve. I wouldn't want to do anything to ruin that."

He smiled back, suddenly delighted with the world and everything in it. He looked up at the traffic signal. The light had turned green. He caught up her hand, kissed her fingers, then stepped on the gas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rewrite and add to end of Chapter 3:**

"Good idea." He smiled at her. "You intrigue me, you know."

She laughed. "That should be a good thing."

"Oh, it is. " He looked into her sparkling sapphire eyes. "DiNozzio of all people, thinks you need protecting from me. Turner tells me you definitely possess the personality of a first flighter; your daughter thinks you're too innocent to deal with a weasel like Johnny Dunlop though I'm darn sure a woman with your looks has had to fend off more than one philanderer." He shook his head. "And with me, you're so composed, so much a lady that it seems Di Nozzio and Libby might be right that you do need protecting - , but then there's this flash in your eyes that makes me think Turner is closest to being right. Which woman are you, Rosalind?

She tilted her head. "Which one do you want me to be?" she asked throatily.

He took a swift breath and risked it all. "The one who might consider running away with me."

Rosalind laughed. "Not a chance," she said with a smile "You're the first man in my life of whom my entire family might just approve. I wouldn't want to do anything to ruin that."

He smiled back, suddenly delighted with the world and everything in it. He caught up her hand, intending to kiss her slim fingers, then hesitated.

"Green light, Admiral," she murmured.

**END OF CHAPTER 3**

**CHAPTER 4  
(Introduction of additional characters – SecNav, and the "Bones" team, and from the Sister Jane Arnold book series, none of which are my own inventions.)**

AJ's heart pounded in his chest. Then a car horn brought him to his senses. He glanced at the traffic light and saw that it had indeed turned green. As he escalated through the intersection, he glanced quickly at her. She was leaning back in the passenger seat, watching him with a mysterious, womanly smile, well aware that he had interpreted her statement in Navy parlance, to mean "Go ahead" with a social gesture. "Rosalind –"

"Oh, I think that's the restaurant – " she glanced out of the window. "You'll have to circle the block. There's valet parking." She waited until he had negotiated the complicated maneuver and they were pulling up underneath the portico of the restaurant. He walked around to open the passenger door and offered his hand. She took it, looked up into his eyes. "I know what green light means, AJ." she murmured with that same smile. "I think we've blown right past that, don't you?"

"Most definitely," he agreed offering his arm. She hooked her arm through his, smiling up at him and right there, in front of people moving in and out of the restaurant, the valets, and a DC cop down the street, and a senator and his wife, AJ moved to kiss her.

"Well, AJ – good to see you out!" The secretary of the Navy exited a limousine behind the couple. His amused eye summed up the chagrined couple. "Have you met my wife, Charlotte?"

"Hello Mrs. Nelson," AJ offered his greeting and preformed the introductions. "Mr Secretary, Mrs. Nelson, may I introduce my friend, Rosalind Strasser."

"Good to meet you, Ms. Strasser." The SecNav bowed and his wife extended her hand.

"I assume you're going to Clyde and Maggie's "do"," she murmured.

"Yes, Maggie and I are old school mates," Rosalind replied to save the woman the trouble of ferreting out the information. "And I believe Clyde was at Annapolis with AJ." She glanced up at him for conformation.

"That's right. They've been trying to fix us up for weeks and by coincidence, we met independent of their machinations so tonight we're going in under the radar," AJ explained with a note of mischief in his voice.

Charlotte laughed. "How delightful. It's difficult to surprise either one of them. They're so attuned to Washington's scene."

"Shall we then?" the SecNav gestured and the Admiral found himself holding the door for him and the two women. Rosalind waited inside for him. He slipped her coat from her shoulders and handed it to the attendant, then turned to find the SecNav staring at Rosalind. Chagrined to be caught out, the other man blinked and turned away.

As the women separated to greet Maggie and other woman friends, the SecNav glanced up at AJ. "Ms. Strasser is a fascinating woman, AJ. Just the right age, too – wherever did you find her?"

"We kind of tripped over one another, circling around Maggie and Clyde's attempts to introduce us," AJ replied casually.

"Is that so?" the SecNav sensed more to the story. "Well, at any rate, be sure to look into her background before you go too deep. With that promotion in the offing , a wife would be most helpful but you can't afford to make any more missteps in the romance department." Meredith Cavanaugh's name lingered in the air between them.

AJ bristled. "Rosalind's father was Dr. Gilbert Taylor. He was killed in Viet Nam during a bombing raid on the hospital. Her late husband was an Army ranger, killed in the first Gulf war. I think she'll pass any scrutiny, Mr. Secretary."

"She certainly knows how to handle herself in these shark infested waters," the SecNav sent one more admiring glance Rosalind's way and sipped his whiskey.

AJ had to agree. Clyde had called the dinner party a "mop up" operation – for anyone who hadn't received an invitation to one of their holiday functions but was important enough to not be overlooked. He assured AJ that he was not on the B list, but that he should come to meet the perfect lady. AJ had enjoyed the expression on his old shipmate's face when they had walked arm and arm into the room.

"AJ – you are an old sea dog," Clyde pounded him on the back. He'd grown portly since leaving the Navy when his career dead ended as a Captain. He'd gone to work as a defense contractor and never looked back. "You always did get the best looking woman."

"You've been the one trying to fix me up with her," AJ reminded him.

"That was all Maggie's doing. She said she felt sorry for poor Rosalind, burying herself in the country." Clyde chewed on his cigar. "Nothing poor about that little lady." He waggled his bushy brows at AJ. "She's got some serious cash, buddy. "

AJ folded his arms and frowned at him. Years ago, he'd stood up at Clyde's wedding not entirely sure if Clyde was more in love with Maggie or her daddy's checkbook. He supposed it didn't matter now – the couple had been married for over thirty years. "You know that's never been a consideration for me, Clyde."

"Yeah, I know. Romantic, honorable, Albert Jethro Chegwidden." Clyde raised his glass. "Well, it's a nice bonus for you, anyway. I need another drink."

Rosalind glanced at AJ in the dim light of the street lamps as he slid the car into park. It seemed so schoolgirlish to kiss him on the cheek and dash out of the car into her house. "Would you like to come in?" She asked hesitantly. "For coffee," she added in a rush.

He turned off the ignition. "Yes, thank you." He tried to not sound to eager.

He followed her up the stiars, trying not to be aware of that slim figure dancing before his eyes. She held up well against the other women her age – supple figure, clean unlined complexion . AJ had gotten to be an expert on spotting botox and Rosalind's face was unmarred.

She fumbled with the key at the third floor landing.

"Here, let me." He took the key from her hand and unlocked and opened the door. Dim lamplight lit the edges of the room and flames danced in the fireplace. Somewhere romantic music played.

"Dear Lord, Libby," Rosalind murmured, face flushed. "AJ –"

"I understand." He slipped the wrap from her shoulders once again. He was almost getting used to the knockout figure she presented in that dress.

"I'll make the coffee," she said swiftly, taking her wrap from him.

AJ moved into the living room, listening to her wrestle with the coffee pot. "I'm sorry I can't get it to grind the beans," she sounded extremely nervous and frustrated.

He moved into the narrow kitchen, standing behind her as she manipulated the buttons.

"Libby and her gourmet ideas," she muttered. "I have think a simple percolator is just fine." She jammed her finger on one more button and the grinder whirred to life, startling her. She jumped back, right against him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her. She turned and looked up at him. "AJ?"

Very slowly, giving her every chance to evade if she wished, he bent his head to kiss her gently on the lips. The lingering kiss went on and on and on.

"Oh, AJ," she whispered, sounding near to tears.

"Shh, it's alright." He kissed the top of her hair as she tipped her forehead against his shirtfront. "It's okay. I'm in no hurry." A lie, but a good one. "Let's just go sit down in front of the fire. Libby also left us a very good bottle of wine."

Rosalind started to laugh. "Run while you can, Admiral."

He smiled down at her. "Do you see me going anywhere?"

"No," she whispered, laying her hand against his chest. "I don't."

She relaxed slightly as they settled on the couch. AJ poured a half glass of wine for each of them and settled back himself. "An interesting group of people tonight," he opened a neutral topic of conversation.

"The secretary of the Navy mingling with congressional aides – Maggie is losing her touch." Rosalind slipped off her shoes and managed to tuck her legs under her feet on the couch in spite of the slim fitting dress. Libby often said she made clothes for living in. "Tonight didn't feel like a social occasion. More of a business mixer."

"Washington is a working town," AJ reminded her. "As a defense contractor, Clyde got a wide circle of business acquaintances. And you're right – it was all business tonight."

They continued to discuss the various guests in a comfortable fashion, both relaxing in each other's company. "You know, I don't remember you at Maggie and Clyde's wedding," AJ commented. "I stood up with him."

"She didn't ask me because at the time Clyde couldn't make up his mind who had the bigger trust fund," Rosalind smiled at his mildly shocked expression. "She got over it after I married Jim. She swirled the wine in her glass. "I guess it was a good partnership – she loved him and he loved her money."

AJ picked up on the cynical note in her voice. "You're not fond of Clyde?"

"I'm sorry – he's your friend, and obviously, the marriage has worked."

"He was my friend when we were younger but we took different tracks. We've both changed over the years. Being dead ended at Captain affected him deeply."

"Maggie said there was an incident involving a young female officer in his command. She insisted the charges were all made up but that after Tail Hook, the Navy was on a witch hunt for any whiff of harassment."

"What do you think?" AJ asked, though he knew that the accusations were true.

"I think that Clyde likes women and he's very - persistent," Rosalind took another sip of her wine.

"Personal experience?" AJ raised his brow.

"I've slapped him a time or two," Rosalind confessed, glancing at him. "You know, AJ – I just thought of something – did I tell you that Johnny Dunlop was a guest of Clyde's that weekend?  
"I'm not sure that you did say that he was staying there, only that he was at the hunt. AJ was a chagrined at the turn the conversation had taken. "I've asked my staff to do an independent review of the evidence. Commander Rabb is developing a timeline and I've asked Major MacKenzie to collect all physical evidence and take it to the Jeffersonian for re-examination."

"The Jeffersonian?"

"Their forensic team is the best in the country," AJ explained. "Though they don't play well with others – NCIS in particular."

Rosalind smiled mischievously. "I'll let you break that bit of news to Tony."

He believed her. In fact, it felt very good, sitting before the fire, sipping an excellent wine and reviewing the evening, collating their separate impressions. For being low on the radar, Rosalind had a wide circle of acquaintances in the Washington scene and was very perceptive of people. This, he thought, with some surprise, was exactly what Secretary Nelson was referring to when he'd pointed out that a wife would be very useful to a CNO. He drew a deep breath.

"What is it?" She glanced up at him.

"I'm being considered for a new job," he said carefully. "Secretary Nelson suggested that a wife would be very – useful to me."

"AJ –" she broke off.

"I'm not proposing a business arrangement," AJ leaned forward to put his wine glass on the coffee table. "I was just thinking how good it felt to be able to sit here with you at the end of an evening, just talking and it occurred to me that that's a part of marriage I never experienced."

"I'm not so sure we did either," Rosalind mused. "With the babies and his hardship tours, we barely had time to talk about anything but the house and bills." She shook her head. "Jim would never allow my family to help us or to spend any money from my trust. Not even to buy the beach house. I hated living in base housing, but I did it so we could make the payments."

"I think you need someone to indulge you," AJ murmured, fingering a tendril of her hair. "Money doesn't matter to me, Rosalind. I've got enough of my own to be comfortable."

She drew a deep breath. "If the "job" to which you refer is what I think it may be – the Chief of Naval Operations - - then everybody in your life is going to be scrutinized as a potential security risk. If we continue to see each other…" she broke off, biting her lip.  
"Are you Mati Hari?" he tried to make it a joke.

She smiled wryly. "Nothing like that. It's just that –" she closed her eyes briefly. "No one else knows this – not my children – no one."

"What is it, Rosalind?" He leaned forward and took her hands. "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, it's not bad," she chortled. "It's the most ridicules thing in the world. After Jim died, I moved the kids to the beach house and we lived there for a number of years. I didn't work, I couldn't. I was just devastated. One day I woke up to realize that what I'd inherited from my grandmother was nearly gone. My mother and step-father would have helped, but I felt I'd gotten myself into the mess, so I'd get myself out – somehow. I was standing in line at the local quick mart one day and some voice told me, I swear, to buy a lottery ticket." She paused for breath. "I won."

"Dare I ask how much?" AJ said quietly.

"An unbelievable amount," she sighed. "I didn't know what to do – I contacted a lawyer of course, and an accountant. I set up a trust for the children, a charity foundation- and I never told anyone. My family and friends think I haven't had a relationship with a man because I'm still mourning Jim, and that was true for awhile. But the last five years – I've just been afraid to get involved. I didn't want to end up with someone like –"

"Clyde?" AJ lifted his brows.

She nodded, looking down at their entwined fingers. "In many ways, the money is a curse, AJ. It really is."

He cupped her chin in his hand so that she looked up at him again. "I'm honored that you trusted me with this, Rosalind."

"I feel safe with you, AJ. Safer than I have ever in my life." Tears glistened in her eyes.

He smiled somewhat wickedly. "And if I said I want to kiss you again?"

"I'd be delighted if you did," she murmured, tears forgotten.

"Always willing to accommodate a lady," he replied, taking her in his arms.

"I'd better go," he murmured some time later, jacket off, his tie askew.

Rosalind hesitated, her hair tumbling out of its neat chignon onto her shoulders. "Yes," she agreed, but with some regret in her voice. "I – I'm sorry."

"I said I wasn't in a hurry," he replied, sincerely, realizing that this time he was playing for keeps. "Besides," It was his turn to look chagrined. "It's been some time since I've carried any protection in my wallet."

She laughed and slipped her arms about his neck once again. "Don't you feel a bit like this is end of the high school prom.," she whispered in his ear. "Only its not parents downstairs, but Libby…and possibly…"

"Don't say it," he groaned. "He will most definitely be looking at his watch and observing my departure."

She giggled. "I do have a house in the country. In fact, this weekend is another hunt. I never asked, do you ride at all?"

"I played polo when I was head of JAG in the Pacific, but my sport is really baseball." He admitted.

"Well, if you played polo, you can stay on a hunter among the hill toppers," she said. "Johnny Dunlop made a point of telling me he'd be at this weekend's fixture and you have been asked to protect me from him," she laughed softly.

"That I did," he acknowledged. "I'll make arrangements to be out of town this weekend."

Another lingering kiss at the door and he made his way down the steps, whistling a tune. As he reached the second floor landing, Tony DiNozzio opened the door.

"Late night, DiNozzio?" AJ took the offensive.

"As with you, Admiral," Tony glanced at his watch.

Libby was lurking in the background. "Tony, we don't want to scare him away," she hissed.

"Oh, the Admiral's not an easy man to scare," Tony smiled wickedly. "Are you Admiral?"

"No, I am not," He folded his arms and glared at the younger man. "Report to my office, first thing tomorrow morning."

"Is this about Johnny Dunlop?" Libby shouldered past her fiancée. "Please, admiral. She's my mother, after all."

"Your mother is perfectly safe, Libby," AJ reassured her. "And I'm sure you'll agree that in an investigation, the less people sharing facts, the better. It colors impressions and memories that could be important in a trial. Besides that," he winked at her. "I just want to give your young man a hard time."

Libby laughed and hugged him. "Don't scare him away either," she whispered. "Or you and Mimsey will be stuck with me forever."

He smiled at her reassuringly and then narrowed his gaze at DiNozzio. "Nine am, sharp."

"Yessir," DiNozzio smirked. "That would be just six hours from now," he made a point of checking his watch again. "Good night Admiral."

AJ started his car, thinking that he was less dismayed about Rosalind's money than he was about her future son-in-law.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 cont.**

Tony was five minutes early for the 9 am meeting with the Admiral and he'd brought reinforcements in the form of his commanding officer, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. If anyone was going to be ragging on him, it was his own boss…even if the Admiral was practically family. That brought him up short. Could it ever be? Libby had said her mother and the admiral had really clicked and if the Admiral's 3 am departure this morning was any indication…he closed his eyes with a small groan.

"Problem, DiNozzio?" Gibbs demanded.

"No sir," Tony replied smartly as they entered the conference room. "Well, hello there."

Dr. Temperance Brennan turned to look at him. "Have we met?"

"Briefly, Dr. Brennan. I have a signed copy of your book." Tony inclined his head to the tall FBI agent standing next to her.

"Which means he stood in line for six hours at the Potomac Mall," Special Agent Seely Booth of the FBI folded his arms. "And you are?"

"He's Special Agent DiNozzio and I'm Special Agent Gibbs. NCIS."

"Commander Rabb and Colonol MacKenzie." The uniformed couple introduced themselves.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Quite an inter-agency meeting we've got here."

"It's necessary, "Admiral Chegwidden entered the room and everyone who had been in the service, except for Gibbs, snapped to attention "As you were, people." He dropped at thick file on the table and sat at the head chair. "Yeoman, coffee, please."

"Late night, Admiral?" Tony smirked.

"I see some bags under your eyes, DiNozzio," AJ barked back. "Look," he leaned back in his chair as Coates departed the room. "I've asked for all of you people to come together to investigate a new lead in the death of Lt. Loren Singer. We all believe that we've got the killer behind bars, but this new information deserves some attention."

"Well, you've certainly got it," Gibbs commented. "Why bring the Jeffersonian into it? Abby went over everything with a fine tooth comb."

"Yes, it was she who figured out that Singer's airline ticket was for Shamrock Airlines to Dublin instead of her stated destination of San Diego." AJ interrupted the rant. "I still have to ask, why would Singer set up an apt in San Diego, then plan to fly in the opposite direction?"

"DiNozzio explained that this new information came from his fiance's mother as well as a friend of yours, Admiral," Gibbs stated matter-of-factly. "DiNozzio says she's a reliable witness."

"Rosalind is very perceptive, indeed." AJ confirmed. "This incident was over a year ago – New Year's day to be exact. She witnessed Lt. Singer in a very intense conversation with an Irish national named Johnny Dunlap and recalled seeing them together on previous occasions during the fox hunting season in Virginia, which begins with something called cubbing –"

"That's the pre-season warm up to you football fans," CIA Agent Webb entered the room. "Look, all of you people should really not be meddling in this. Rosalind has really opened up a can of worms here."

"You know her too?" Gibbs lifted his eyebrows. "How? What am I missing here?"

"The acquaintance of a very nice lady. If you must know, we went to school in the same neighborhood - I was at Lee Academy, just down the road from Custis Hall," Webb replied snottily. "There were combined social events. Formal dances, hunts, that sort of thing."

As Gibbs made a face over the useless pursuits of upper crust Virginia society, AJ took control of the conversation.

"Her friend Maggie married a man named Smith-Clyde, known to friends as Clyde" Webb glanced at the admiral.

"Yes, I know him," AJ said neutrally.

Webb continued without asking for clarification. "Navy captain, retired following an incident with a female officer. Lobbies for a defense contractor. Suspected of some shady dealings with one Johnny Dunlop, including shuttling some very nasty items to various militia groups in Great Britain. You are aware that Great Britain is a hot point for terrorist organizations?"

"Yes, we do watch ZNN." AJ was watching Booth, Rabb, and DiNozzio get hotter under the collar with every word that Clayton Webb spoke. "Are you saying that our continued investigation into the death of Lt. Singer is bumping up against a homeland security issue?"

"If so, you're playing in my ball park for both the murder and any threats," Booth spoke up. "Brennan was able to match a fingerprint on an item in Loren Singer's wallet to a man named Sean Dunn – AKA Johnny Dunlop."

"What item?" Gibbs demanded, unable to believe Abby had missed something.

"It was catalogued as a smudge by your forensic specialist." Dr. Brennan spoke up. "She didn't miss it – she just couldn't identify it. Our equipment is far more sophisticated than anything you would have in your labs, Agent Gibbs."

"She's not on a governmental budget," Booth added with a smirk. "Travels first class, too."

"Let's leave the territorial disputes for later," AJ suggested in a strong voice. "Rabb, MacKenzie, what did you uncover as far as a timeline.? Any other connections between Singer and this weasel?"

"Credit card receipts from last fall for an Inn within the Jefferson Hunt's territory, coinciding with hunting events," Rabb confirmed. "Apparently, unlike Dunlop, she wasn't able to wrangle an invitation to stay in a member's house."

We do have confirmation that Dunlop stayed with the Smith-Clydes on at least four occasions last fall and winter. There were other people who remembered him besides Mrs. Strasser."

"You were discrete about those inquiries, I hope," Webb interrupted again..

"Very discrete," Rabb glared back. "What are you doing messed up in this anyway, Webb? Have you read the constitution lately? No CIA ops on American soil."

"Because of my background in this area, I am cooperating informally with the FBI."

"Since when?" Booth demanded.

"Since about a half hour ago," Webb glanced at his watch.

"So it's my investigation." Booth sat up a little straighter.

"Our investigation," Brennan looked at him. "We're partners."

"All right, people," AJ reined them in again. "Let's just get all the information on the table, shall we? Then we can fight over the carcass. Gibbs, DiNoxxio, do you have anything to add?"

"We got our man for the murder, Admiral." Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure of that."

"As sure as you were that I did it?" Rabb pounced on the NCIS agent.

"I wasn't sure, if you will recall," Gibbs said icily.

The admiral drew a deep breath, counseling himself to patience. "Mrs. Strasser's daughter did suggest to me that perhaps Commander Lindsey might have confessed to the murder out of fear of someone such as Dunlop."

"Would she know anything, or is that just a guess?" Gibbs asked.

"You mean hypothesis," It was Brennan's turn to interrupt. "A guess is a statement made without sufficient information."

"Then, I mean a guess," Gibbs was mildly sarcastic, causing Booth to bristle.

"It's a hypothesis, sir," DiNozzio said quietly. "Libby is as perceptive as Rosalind and between the two of them, they don't miss much."

"Then, I have to wonder why, when half a dozen people at least could place Dunlop at Fairhill last January, would he take pains to try to convince a very perceptive woman that he hadn't been there. Surely, he might have guessed he'd trigger something in her memory." Gibbs glanced at the Admiral. "Perhaps she saw or heard something else besides the exchange between him and Lt. Singer."

"Good question, Gibbs," AJ acknowledged, glancing around the table. "Where does that leave us?"  
"Confused, Admiral," Colonel MacKenzie spoke up for the first time. "We have some slight evidence linking Singer to Dunlop that perhaps indicates that he entered her hotel room at some point. That puts him nowhere near the murder scene.

"No, Mac, it doesn't. When was the last time she was at this hotel?"

Rabb consulted his papers. "New Year's Eve, sir. A week before she was killed."

"So they met on New Year's Eve, argued on New Year's Day, and she's dead a week later, presumably after attempting to blackmail Commander Lindsey." AJ folded his arms. "You know, it occurred to me people, that the plot to scatter all of my staff to the four winds before they could put the pieces together regarding Singer's death was a bit above Lindsey's intellectual capabilities. He's not a good chess player." He glanced at Tony. "I understand the next Jefferson Hunt meet is this weekend."

"Yes, in fact, the hunt is meeting at Bootlegger Farm – that is, the Strasser farm," Tony replied. "I'm planning to be there."

"As am I," the admiral made a mental note to locate his jodhpurs and boots from his polo days during his stint as head of JAG in the Pacific, and find some kind of hunting jacket.

"Now, look people, you can't just go invading a hunting field – there are rules, etiquette.." Webb protested. "I am actually a bon fida member of the Jefferson hunt."

"Fine, we'll go as your guests." the Admiral replied.

"I can ride a horse," Brennan raised her hand. "I'm actually quite a good rider."

"You are?" Booth looked at her. "I can't ride."

"Doesn't matter. We'll need some people in the field…spotters." AJ glanced at Webb. "Webb is familiar with the territory and though he can't run an operation on US soil, he can lend cooperation to the FBI."

"What about NCIS?" Gibbs demanded."

"FBI is investigating Dunlop for potential terrorist activities. You're investigating a murder."

"What are we doing, Admiral?" Rabb demanded.

"Making sure all this interagency cooperation is legal." AJ swept his gaze around the table. "We're going fox hunting, people. Make a plan." He rose to depart. "Dismissed."

The seven people standing around the conference room table exchanged uneasy glances. "This isn't going to end well," Mac murmured to Rabb. "Too many egos."

Rabb pulled a face. "Don't jinx us, Mac. We've got enough trouble."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A discrete bronze plaque mounted on the left side stone column read "Sunnyfields". Commander Harmon Rabb Jr lifted an eyebrow and glanced at his passenger, Colonel Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie. "Are you sure this is it?"

"Yes, according to the directions," Mac glanced at her Blackberry then at the wrought iron gates which were firmly closed. "But how do we get in?

Rabb pulled the car a little further into the driveway and found an intercom mounted on the stone column. A camera was mounted discretely above it. "Smile pretty," he motioned to Mac as he pressed the button. "Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie," he announced.

"Of course, Commander. You are expected." A disembodied British voice replied. "I'm opening the gates now."

"Just who is Rosalind Strasser?" Mac demanded as they made their way slowly up the winding tree lined driveway. White fences catching the last of the evening night surrounded empty, well groomed pastures, then as the driveway turned again, a graceful Federal style house with twin chimneys appeared on a low rise, lights beckoning from its façade and the two story front porch.

"Apparently a very well to do lady," Harm slowed, trying to figure out where to park the car. He and Mac were running interference between all the different agencies tripping over themselves to protect Rosalind Strasser and obtain more information about Johnny Dunlop's relationship with the late Lt. Loren Singer. Did that mean they were guests? Or staff? Front door or rear entrance? The question was answered as the front door opened and a white haired man dressed in a very well cut suit came out onto the porch and down the wide steps.

"You may leave your car here, Commander. Bailey will take care of it. And bring in you bags."

Rabb hesitated. He was very fond of his Jaguar but Bailey proved to be a very capable looking muscular young man dressed in a thick Fair Isle knit sweater, blue jeans and riding boots. He tossed Rabb's beaten up leather bag up on the porch but was more respectful of Mac's weekender case. He touched his fingers to his tweed cap with a smile and a twinkle of his blue eyes then glanced at Rabb. "Your car will be around back by the stable block, should you need it," he told Rabb then glanced back at Mac. "Are you riding this weekend, Colonel?"

"No, actually. We thought we might do some…she hesitated over the term. "Hill topping."

"We'll have a jeep at you disposal then." Bailey slipped behind the wheel of the jaquar. "Don't worry Commander. I'll only drop a few gears."

Harm tried to smile as they followed what had to be a butler into the wide foyer. "I'll see your bags upstairs, Sir. Colonel MacKenzie, you are in the Rose room at the end of the main hall. Commander Rabb, you will turn right at the first cross hall and take the second left door. That is the African room. Would you like to join the others in the library?"

"This is starting to feel like a British murder mystery," Rabb murmured as they entered the lounge, or what he would call a very large living room with several distinct seating areas. A drinks table was set up near the windows. Tony DiNozzio was arranging a tray of what looked like Cosmopolitans.

"

"Libby and that Dr. Brennan are bonding over cocktails." He nodded over his shoulder toward a cozy corner where a slim blonde girl was deep in conversation with the forensic anthropologist. Booth was hovering uncomfortably. He walked over to Rabb, Mac and Tony.

"Is Webb here yet? What about Gibbs? We've got to make a plan." Booth demanded.

"Look," Tony tilted his head toward him. "This house runs like it did in Rosalind's grandmother's day. Not much changes among the FFV – that's first family of Virginia to you all. Drinks in the lounge, followed by a dinner featuring overcooked beef – though actually Rosalind's cook is very good. After dinner, we retire to the library, or in this case, the brand new media room in the basement and that's when we make our plan."

"Why the media room?" Mac demanded.

"Because there's a big screen TV in there that McGee is going to use for our briefing." Tony lifted his tray. "Drink?"

"Can you make a Manhattan?" Booth demanded. "Because since we've got all the time in the world to catch Dunlop, I'd really like a Manhattan."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Booth." Webb slipped up behind them. "But while you're at it, DiNozzio, I'll have a Scotch. Neat."

"I am not the bar tender," Tony hissed. "Help yourself." He turned on his heel and walked over to his fiancée and Dr. Brennan with a smile. "Here you are, ladies."

"This is unreal," Mac murmured. "I wonder what the admiral thinks of this.

"This is ridicules!" AJ snorted.

"AJ, just stand still for a moment. The vest isn't that tight. I just need to move the buttons over about a quarter of an inch. Now, if you would just try the jacket,"

AJ slipped his sleeves into the coat. Again there was a significant gap as he tried to fasten the buttons.

"I can fix that, too," Rosalind murmured.

"I've been the same size since I left the SEALS," AJ muttered. "I gave them my exact measurements.

"Well, these are British garments." Rosalind tried to appease him. "They fit differently."

"They use the same damn measuring tape." He retorted.

"Actually – " Rosalind hesitated. "I believe its metric."

He had to laugh. "You are perfect, you know that."

"As you will be." She smoothed down his shoulders. "I'll just fix the buttons temporarily and you can have it properly tailored later." She smiled at him. "The jodhpurs fit well. What about the boots?"

"I'm fairly confident my feet haven't changed size," AJ warmed to her compliment. "Now, what about this thing…" He waved the stock in front of her. "It looks like an old fashioned bandage."

"That's actually its purpose. So many times, accidents happen on the hunting field." Rosalind slipped it around his neck. "The stock is an emergency bandage for human or horse and it makes a dandy sling, too. That's why its fastened with safety pins. It's all part of the tradition."

"Rosalind, to be quite honest, I'm not sure I'm up to all of this."

"You needn't ride," Rosalind replied reassuringly.

"Not the riding," AJ had no worries there. "But, all of this – he gestured around the oversized bedroom in which they were standing. "This house, your lifestyle."

"I live very simply, AJ," Rosalind said. "I have the beach house and Sunnyfields which for all its show, is really a working farm with beef cattle, horses, and sheep."

"And a butler," AJ added. "And some sort of groundsman?"

"Farm manager and his stable helper. There's some seasonal help too – for the farmwork. " Rosalind corrected. "The landscaping is contracted." She looked serious for a moment. "This was my grandmother's house, AJ. I didn't go out and look for this lifestyle."

"No, you were born to it. And I'm just old sea salt-"

"AJ, is all this going to scare you away?" For the first time she looked worried.

He shook his head, enfolding her into his arms. "I'm just warning you that I might be something of an embarrassment."

She smiled into his chest. "Wait until you see Tony on a horse. He's trying so hard for Libby."

"If he hurts her, I'll adjust the buttons on his vest," AJ said grimly.

Rosalind looked up at him. "Much of what he says is bluster," she replied. "He does really love Libby. Now, let me have that jacket and vest. I'll work on it after dinner." She laid them carefully on the chaise lounge. "Here, I'll take the stock off too." Her nimble fingers worked carefully to unwind the long neckpiece.

AJ couldn't resist putting his arms around her. The intimacy of her utterly feminine bedroom with its softly glowing lamps, the flickering firelight and the four poster bed, covered in ivory silk and piled with pillows in his view, AJ couldn't resist putting his arms around her. She smiled up at him, slipping the stock from his shoulders as he bent his head to kiss her then sighed heavily as their lips parted.

"What is it?" her voice was soft and mischievous.

"There's ten people in this house, most of them here for the purpose of protecting you," he said with wry amusement. "How long do you think it will be before the FBI, NCIS, the CIA, and the Jeffersonian Forensics team figure out we're sleeping together?"

"About thirty seconds?" she tilted her head.

"This isn't a game, Rosalind," he said seriously. "We need to keep you safe."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that why you agreed to share my bedroom this weekend, with everyone here?"

"I have to admit that I did consider that you might be safer with me beside you, but there were – are – other considerations that far outweighed my good sense," he stroked her trim waistline then drew her against him again. "You are irresistible and I don't ever want to spend another night away from you." He kissed her again, more deeply and found her as eager as he.

"You really need to get out of those jodhpurs," she gasped awhile later.

"They are a bit constricting," he agreed, panting slightly.

She laughed, deep in her throat. "But you fill them out so nicely."

"I think we're going to miss cocktails," AJ whispered in her ear as they sank together down onto the satin bedcovering, on those soft pillows in that pool of gloaming light.

The various couples were getting very nervous in each other's company by the time AJ and Rosalind walked in, trying to look calm and composed.

"Where have they been?" Booth demanded of his partner.

"Having sex," Brennan replied. "Don't glare at me – there are obvious physical signs – her flushed cheeks, the typical male look after a satisfactory performance – you know, these Cosmopolitans are quiet good. I think I'll have another one.

"Geesh, Bones! You don't need any more to drink." Booth hushed her up as Rosalind made the rounds of the room, welcoming her guests for what had to be the oddest house party in Virginia.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Though Sunnyfields dated from the 1830's and had been in Rosalind's family about that long, the house did boast an up to date media center in the lower level of the house, in what at one time had been a dug cellar.

Gibbs folded his arms and leaned against the wall, watching McGee fiddle with the video equipment, then turning to Tony was spreading out maps on the pool table at the far end of the room. His fiancée, Libby was helping him, if that was what you could call it. The pool balls weren't exactly efficient paperweights.

"I always thought this table was uneven," she complained. "No wonder James always won. He's an engineer and would figure that kind of thing out rather quickly, I imagine."

She wasn't a fashionably pretty girl, but she had a classically shaped face with perfect bone structure and a tall, just curvy enough frame. He could imagine that in twenty years or so, she'd look very much like her beautiful mother, who was pointing out landmarks to the Admiral. Tony hadn't quite gotten around to mentioning that he was engaged to be married until the announcement appeared in the Washington Post. Watching them together, Gibbs didn't doubt that Tony genuinely loved her and she him. He didn't think it at all odd that Tony hadn't revealed his romance, but rather gauged the depth of the younger man's feelings by his silence. Tony never talked about his strongest emotions. The two couples fit well together, for the moment at least, and it struck Gibbs that Tony, who'd had the roughest of upbringings with a father who was one step above a con artist, had been looking for just this kind of family.

Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie – introduced as Harm and Mac, now garbed in civilian clothes, wandered into the room, looking for all the world like a couple on a casual country weekend . They were an interesting pair, their partnership close enough that they spoke to each other without words. Gibbs had to wonder about their personal relationship as well, though at the moment, Mac seemed more open and friendly to Clayton Webb, who had trailed behind them into the room. He wasn't looking pleased. Perhaps his dinner hadn't agreed with him, though who could argue with prime rib? Gibbs had been very impressed by the meal, impeccably cooked and presented to the odd assortment of guests, who made nervous conversation with each other, though Dr. Brennan, fueled by a number of cocktails, was very chatty and entertaining. Special Agent Booth was alternately aggravated and enchanted with her, and remained so as they lounged on the couch, waiting for the briefing. Another couple, Gibbs thought sourly. Way too much romance, too little professionalism. This operation could end in disaster.

"Alright, MacGee, are you ready?" Gibbs shoved away from the wall. "Let's get this going."

McGee pulled up a map of the terrain around Sunnyfields. The hunt was actually taking place at Bolton Landing, along the Rapidan River, which was, as the crow flies, not too far from Sunnyfields' borders. McGee used his laser pointer to highlight and explain the various features.

"That box jump is a killer," Webb commented. "Tony, you'd better go around that one."

Tony bristled.

"Never mind," Gibbs waved McGee on.

"The problem is, we can't be sure which way the fox will run, so positioning resources will be difficult," McGee noted. "But if we use this place, called Hangman's Hill, as a command post, we should have a good view of the entire field. I suggest positioning one group along each of the four points of the compass surrounding the hunt field – we've got enough people, I think."

Ziva agreed to take the west with Special Agent Booth; Harm and Mac were deployed to the south. Brennan wanted to hunt and was assigned to the hilltoppers, though what good she would do, Gibbs had no idea. Gibbs would go to the east and McGee to the command post to man all of the electronic tracking equipment he intended to employ. Rosalind and Libby would both carry locators, and Webb's mission was to sneak a locater somewhere on Dunlop's person. With the hunt field surrounded and Webb, Tony and the Admiral as Rosalind's and now Libby's inner circle of protection, Gibbs was confident that not only would the mother and daughter be safe, but that Johnny Dunlop would be captured if he chose to slip away during the excitement of the chase.

"Well, the horses will be up to the challenge at least," Rosalind sighed, then turned her attention to her part of the operation. ""We'll leave for Bolton Landing at 8 o'clock, sharp. Reedy will have your horses waiting for you there. We truck the horses over," she added by way of explanation. " Tony, you'll have Abba again as you're getting on quite well."

"Meaning he hasn't thrown me into the bushes lately," Tony joked. "We'll do fine, Rosalind. Just fine."

"Clayton, can we loan you Suli?" Rosalind asked. "She's a really strong jumper and a bit green still, but that will give you an excuse to linger back. She'll need a firm hand."

"I'm up to it, I think," Webb smiled at her.

That left the Admiral and Dr. Brennan, who were both amateurs and who would be, like Rosalind, in the second flight or hilltopping. Reedy had chosen sturdy, dependable geldings who got on well with Rosalind's mare, Araby.

"That's it, then" Rosalind put on her brightest smile. "I hope there are no problems. The weather will be just perfect for hunting."

The weather was indeed perfect, the frozen hills sun washed against a bright blue sky. The occasional red hunting coat or light grey horse splashed against the darker field of horses and riders and when the hounds came out of the trailer, the morning exploded with excitement.

"Dear Lord," the Admiral murmured, taking a firm hand on his reins. His gelding was more than ready to follow the hounds.

"Sit deep in the saddle, Admiral. Balance in the stirrups on the balls of your feet and squeeze with your knees when you go over a jump. If you stayed on in polo, you won't lose your seat here." Clayton Webb's voice whispered to him through the earpiece. Thanks to NCIS, they were all outfitted with one. So, everyone heard what Webb said.

AJ tossed him a glare, which Webb missed as he was dealing with his own problems with Suli, an incredibly beautiful grey mare with a green ribbon on her braided tail, indicating she kicked. He'd have his hands full as well.

"AJ, I'm worried about this," Rosalind confessed as the field moved out behind the pack of hounds, the huntsman and the master. In spite of her worry, the excitement of the hunt was evident on her face. "Dunlop is paired up with Clyde. Maggie is nowhere to be seen. She never misses a hunt!"  
"Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out," AJ promised her. "Just stay close to me." For any number of reasons, he thought as the field picked up pace.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The sounds of the horses hooves pounding on the frozen ground, coupled with the call of the huntsman's horn gave AJ a moment of surrealism…was this how cavalrymen felt riding into battle? "All in the valley of Death ___rode_ the six ___hundred__,"_ he quoted the Longfellow poem under his breath, then as chatter erupted in his ear from less disciplined members of the team, namely Brennan and Booth, he remembered they were all outfitted with microphones and earpieces.

"Shut the hell up!" Gibbs ordered testily to one and all as the thirty couple of hounds began to bay. From his position on the west hill, he observed the field

Rosalind was easy to keep in sight. She rode with that same certain elegant style with which she did everything. Her hair even had some red highlights in it. He sighed. Somehow he didn't think he could keep company with her crowd, though the Admiral was manfully trying to do so as he followed Rosalind over the first jump and managed to look credible on the landing. He had to give the man credit. SEALS were tough. Not as tough as Marine Recon. But tough.

Their quarry, Clyde Smith Clyde, wore a red jacket for some reason Gibbs didn't understand, but it made him easier to keep track of when he suddenly veered away from the pack and headed up the hill toward where McGee was stationed with his surveillance equipment. Clyde acted like the horse was running away with him but the minute the field left him behind, he regained perfect control of the prancing mount. For an overweight, out of shape, cigar smoking, bureaucrat, Clyde Smith Clyde was a damned good horseman.

There was a gully running along the base of the ridge that was covered by overgrown bushes and small trees. Smith Clyde backed his horse into the gully and waited. It wasn't long before Dunlop appeared, riding a sweated up blood red gelding.

"I can't hear what they're saying McGee," Gibbs warned. "Somebody get over there, but not too close."

Harm and Mac nodded at each other, "On our way, Gibbs," Mac reported before sprinting behind Harm toward the gully.

Gibbs swiveled around, looking for Rosalind and the Admiral, not to mention Clayton Webb. They had all bunched up together toward the back. Tony, doing remarkably well was toward the head of the field with Libby beside him. At least he was keeping track of her.

"Where is she!" suddenly Clyde's angry voice burst through the communication device. Harm and Mac were in position. "What have you done with Maggie! Where is my wife!"

"Safe enough for the time being," Dunlop replied. "And what have you done with my guns?"

"I can't divert any more shipments. My company is suspicious, the government is suspicious, Blackwater is all over everyone because they're not getting their supplies. It's gone too far, Dunlop. What ever you said to Rosalind last weekend has AJ Chegwidden's shorts in a real twist. He's got protection all around her and this damned hill. I'd bet you couldn't piss behind a tree without him hearing you!"

"And what is a used up Admiral got to do with your problems, Clyde?" Dunlop queried. "We had a deal. You broke it. I am, as you might say, familiar with other means of payment."

"Don't hurt my wife," Clyde's desperation came through loud and clear.

"Why not?" Dunlop sounded surprised. "You don't love her…the little money she had is long gone…she is of no use to you."

"She's…" Clyde choked. "Damn you, Dunlop – you killed that other girl and set that Navy Commander up for the killing and now you're going to do the same with me and Maggie.

"Ahh, so it isn't her that you are worried about – it's your own skin, is it Clyde? If you're framed for the murder of Maggie, then you lose everything, don't you? Why, you'd be so distraught, you might commit suicide even."

There was a sound of a click.

"That's a stupid trick. You'll be caught in five minutes." Clyde found some contempt in his soul.

"There are other ways to die," Dunlop was playing the cat. "For instance, I could shoot the ground in front of your very nervous horse….:"

"GO, GO GO!" Gibbs shouted.

But it was too late. Dunlop let loose a pistol of filled with ratshot into the frozen snow, startling the horse, which reared back, unseating Clyde. He may have meant only to scare him, but ill luck brought Clyde down on a broken branch, his own weight impaling him through his rib cage.:

Harm and Mac charged Dunlop even as the Admiral rode up, charging as if he were indeed one of the Light Brigade, Clayton Webb behind him. DiNozzio was unsuccessfully trying to keep both Rosalind and Libby away from the scene, but Brennan was right behind him.

"I'm a doctor," she said to Clyde. "You're very badly injured and you're going into shock."

"Does he need to know that right now?" AJ found himself whipping off the stock that Rosalind had so neatly tied that morning and using it as a compress to try to cushion the wound. It was cold, and there was very little blood with a puncture wound, so it would have seemed Clyde might have a chance, but then blood started to trickle out of the side of his mouth. A long was punctured.

"Chose the wrong one, AJ." He whispered in a raspy voice. "Should have taken the bell.."

"What the hell is he talking about," AJ looked around wildly as his old comrade closed his eyes and breathed his last. His only thought was the bell that dropouts at BUDS training rang.

"He's talking about Rosalind," Webb said quietly. "In her youth, at school, she was known as the Belle of Virginia."

AJ shook his head and hardened his mouth. The damn fool's last words were about another woman. If Maggie was alive, she'd never hear that.

"You blew it Dunlop," Harm manjacked the Irishman to his feet. "You killed this one instead of tricking him into a prison sentence. Now what the hell happened to Loren Singer?"

"She fell off a bridge, poor careless girl." Dunlop managed to look smug. "Nice little girls shouldn't try blackmail."

"Get him the hell out of here before I – " the Admiral rose to his feet, a blood mist in his eyes.

"I'll take him, Commander," Booth took over the very uncomfortable grip Harm had on the villa's face and slapped handcuffs on him. "You're under arrest by the FBI."

"Booth, how did you get here so fast?" Brennan demanded.

"She drove," he jerked his head at Ziva.

"You never let me drive!" Brennan complained.

"Yeah, and I'm never going to let her drive again either," Booth shoved Dunlop toward the jeep. "Johnny Dunlop, you are under arrest for crimes committed against the United States government. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law and you're damned sure going to need a lawyer…"

"AJ," Rosalind gripped his arm. "Where's Maggie? You need to find Maggie."

"We'll find her." AJ looked around at the team.

"We should look at Bolton Landing." Webb suggested. "He may have simply shut her up in a shed. He and Clyde were already there when we arrived and Clyde didn't look nervous then, yet."

.

"I saw them too and Clyde didn't look the least like a man who'd just been told his wife had been kidnapped," AJ agreed. "Gibbs?"

"We'll handle it, Admiral," Gibbs said laconically. "Ziva, McGee, get on it." He looked around. "Where in the hell is Tony."

"Last I saw he was just behind the master going over the coop at Badger's Run," Webb fought for control of his flighty horse as another rider unwisely came up behind him.

"Nobody's going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on around here!" Andrew Jones, the local sheriff pulled up his horse and pulled out his badge.

"It's a federal matter…" AJ began, then interrupted himself. "Does everyone fox hunt around here?"

"Pretty much – and this – whatever it is - is in my jurisdiction." Andrew swung off his horse to look at the body. "Jesus, that's Clyde Smith Clyde – and Dunlop's horse. What the hell happened?"

"I can assure you, he's quite dead," Bones commented. "Dunlop killed him. He is now in in FBI custody for arms trafficking, among other things."

"At least one of you is talking. Rosalind, how did you get mixed up in this?" It was a question for which he didn't beg an answer. Andrew pulled out his radio. "Now can we let the locals have a little fun? Can I at least bring in the coroner?"  
"Actually no," Bones rose to her feet. "I'm a forensic anthropologist and all of this crime scene will be processed through the Jeffersonian."

"With assistance from NCIS," Gibbs stepped forward, waving his own badge. "Sherriff, we'll lay it all out for you, some place nice and warm."  
"Webb, do you have anything to do with this?" Andrew turned to the one person he'd known all of his life.

"Let them do their job, Andrew. It's way too much paperwork for you." Webb reined his horse in closely. "But we have to find Maggie Smith Clyde. She may be at Bolton Landing, at Fair Hill or somewhere in between."

"I saw her very early at Bolton Landing – she was going to the stables to look at a new mare that Dunlop had brought over from England…" Andrew's face hardened as the NCIS team headed for their jeep. "Wait a minute, damn it!"

Webb released his grip on the reins and the mare rose to the occasion. If Ziva wasn't driving, he'd be close to beating the jeep back to Bolton Landing. Of course, he didn't have to look for a gate. For just a moment, AJ admired the man, his courage, and his damned fine seat on a horse."

"Webb—" Sherriff Jones hissed through his teeth.

"Rosalind and I'll ride with you Sherriff," AJ soothed him. "And explain on the way."

"Yes, but who will tell Sister Jane she's lost half her field!"

"Tony and Libby are still with the field," Rosalind soothed him. "Please, Andrew. I'm very cold and feeling just a bit sick."

"Of course, Rosalind," Andrew's southern manners came to the fore. "You'll stay with the body?"

"Yes, to preserve the chain of evidence," Bones agreed. "Booth will send my team back and meanwhile, Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie can be of some assistance in setting up a perimeter."

"Evidence," Rosalind murmured, shivering, as they rode away. "Is that all he really is now?"

AJ's earpiece exploded. "We've got the wife. We've got the wife." Ziva reported in her professional manner. "An ambulance is being called. She's been drugged and she's very cold, but she's alive."

"Maggie's been located. She's alive." AJ touched the earpiece. "Roger that, we're coming in."

The crackling fire and warm brandy made the events of the morning a distant and bad memory. Rosalind unashamedly huddled against AJ, drawing strength from his firm body. "Why did he risk everything? Maggie's family had money…"

"Not as much as you may have thought. She apparently thought that Clyde's prospects were somewhat better than they turned out to be," Booth, who had spent the better part of the day interviewing Maggie in the hospital had the timeline pretty well figured out. "She wanted to be an admiral's wife and when he lost his command due to that incident…well, she threatened to leave him. That's when she found out they were in debt up to their ears…"

"Wait a minute," Rosalind sat up. "Do you mean to say that Maggie knew what Clyde was doing?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Strasser but yes, she was very much a partner. Which was why Dunlop had to get rid of her as well as her husband."

Rosalind sank back against AJ, tears welling in her eyes. "My poor Mags." She raised her head. "You know there were a pair of characters in a Dickens novel. Each thought the other had enough money to settle their private debts – and both were fooled. They ended up traveling Europe running con games." She shook her head. "I never would have thought it. Is Maggie under arrest?"

""Yes, ma'am she is," Booth said quietly. "She's got an attorney and they're talking out a deal. It's best if you not go near her."

"There's also the matter of Loren Skinner's actions," Gibbs said quietly. "According to Dunlop, she was also in on the scheme. Blackmail at the very least and not about the father of her baby."

"I don't think she was," Something suddenly clicked in Mac's mind. "She figured out what Dunlop and Clyde were doing and that Commander Lindsey was somehow involved –" she interrupted herself. "How would Commander Lindsey be involved, Admiral?  
"As SecNav's aide, he'd have access to defense contractor contracts and probably be able facilitate contacts for Dunlop and Clyde." The Admiral sighed, realizing that there was probably going to be another investigation, maybe even at the Congressional level, of the SecNav's office. It would likely screw up his promotion too.

"That would make sense, Mac continued. "She discovered the plot, and Lindsey's involvementand she was going to report it. Loren Singer was a manipulating cheat when it came to the courtroom but she wasn't a traitor and her main motivation was to advance her career. How better to do that than to reveal an arms smuggling operation?"

"That's it!" Rosalind sat up. "I remember what she said to Dunlop! She said, "Leave me alone, I'm going to talk to Rosalind," and he grabbed her arm and prevented her from coming to me."

"Why would talking to you frighten him?" AJ frowned.

"Look around, Admiral." Webb commented. "Rosalind has a reputation for tapping the right people to solve complicated problems. If Loren Singer had revealed what she knew about these contracts, Rosalind would have found the right people to take care of it."

AJ shook his head. "My very own Miss Marple," he took her hand. "Though much younger and infinitely more beautiful." He kissed her with his eyes and snuggled her against his chest as she began to cry in earnest.

"That poor girl. If only I'd…"

"Rosalind, it's not your fault," AJ said sternly. "Loren Singer always had her own agenda. Her own way of doing things."

"That doesn't explain why Lindsey confessed to killing her." Harm pointed out.

"He probably did kill her, at Dunlop's orders." Mac suggested.

"But he thought he was the father of her baby," McGee reminded them. "I remember in the interview room when we told him, the baby wasn't his, he slumped in his chair."

"Because he thought the baby was Dunlop's and that we were close to uncovering the arms trading. At that point, he thought he might have been able to beat the murder rap, but if the arms trading was discovered, he'd surely lose everything." Mac put forth.

"Okay, I'll buy that," Harm agreed. "But what about the airline ticket, Mac." Harm returned to the part of the puzzle that bothered him the most. "Why would she be going to Ireland for any reason but to meet up with Dunlop, who probably was the father of her baby."

"Dunlop was here, in Virginia at the time. She wouldn't be flying to Ireland to meet him. From Ireland, she could have gone anywhere in the world, including Moscow," Bones broke into the conversation. "Harm, have you ever thought that you and Sergie are not brothers? Perhaps you both believe something that really isn't true? You only assumed your DNA would reveal a close relationship to the baby if Sergie was the father, but there was never a comparison of your DNA to Sergie's to determine if you are in fact brothers. My lab could do the comparisons rather quickly and if there is fetal tissue …"she glanced at the NCIS agent Gibbs.

"Never mind, Dr. Brennan." Harm said quietly. "Sergie is my brother and that's the end of it."

"But-" Bones started to speak then checked herself. "I understand, Commander. Everyone needs a family."

As Booth smiled at her with pride, AJ tightened his arm around Rosalind. "Yes," he agreed quietly. "Everyone needs a family."

"Here, here," Tony raised his glass and unabashedly kissed his fiancée. "And you're all invited to the wedding!"

Later that evening when all had retired, AJ came out of the bathroom after a hot shower pummeled every sore muscle he had, including his butt, wrapped in a heavy terry robes. He was looking forward to one last glass of whiskey to ease the remaining soreness from his muscles. He found Rosalind holding back the heavy damask draperies staring pensively out of the window overlooking the back pastures of Sunnyfield. In the distance one could just see the glow of the lights of Fair Hill, now empty, its owners ruined. Her face was in profile against the flickering firelight of the gas fireplace and low lamps burning around the large master bedroom and he could see the tears on her cheeks.

"You're freezing cold," he wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him, her silk wrapper immediately cooling his chest. "Come by the fire." He sat with her on the love seat set at an angle toward the fire. A tray with a decanter of whiskey and two classes sat on a low table beside him. "Here, have some of this blackberry brandy, purely medicinal."

"No," she shook her head pensively. "I was just thinking that you could know someone a lifetime and never really know them, and then know someone just a few days or weeks and feel like you're part of that person," she glanced up at him almost timidly.

He smiled reassuringly and touched her soft hair, flowing down past her shoulders. "I feel the same way," he assured her. "You and I, Rosalind –I dare not think about it too much in case I'm dreaming." He drew a deep breath. "But I was thinking that perhaps you'd like to go to Italy?"

"Italy?" she raised her brows. "Why Italy?"

"Well," he carefully arranged her hair. "You've shown me something of your life, and I've met at least one of your children and hope to meet the other two soon but you haven't met my daughter and aren't likely to do so in the near future unless we go to the spring fashion shows in Milan."

"Is this an attempt to take my mind off Maggie and Clyde?" Rosalind asked very seriously.

AJ shook his head. "No, you'll reconcile all that in your own time. This is just a very real attempt to share some of my life with you."

"I would love to go to Italy," she kissed him gently, then settled back in his arms, staring once again at the fire. Her expression had somewhat changed, though it was obvious she was still thinking about a problem.

"What is it?"

She sighed. "Shoes.." A small smile began to show at the edges of her mouth. "All kinds of Italian shoes. I think I'm going to have to do some clearing out in my dressing room."

AJ chuckled and drew her even closer. "You can start that tomorrow."

_**Hope you enjoyed all of the crazy mixed up characters….stay tuned for "February" adventures…..**_


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